Chapter 55: Home, Accursed Home
The Three Islands. Triad Islands. Kavana. An archipelago by another name...
21.09.2044
With the setting sun ahead, the small Amazon fleet rounds the southern cape of Xocibiki island. Out of the jungle the town of Pe-acuil comes into view. Before its liberation it was Ville Mêlée, pirate capital of the Three Islands. Thankfully, most of the ramshackle flotsam shacks have since then been cleared.
Since her recovery, Queen Lyssa has increased efforts to restore the underlying Amazon architecture. A few years before, Xocibiki was the focus of a large-scale uprising by the island's males. Now banished to the quarries of the realm, the surviving rebels help provide the necessary construction materials to rebuild Pe-acuil.
As her flagship heads into the harbour, it warms Inanna's heart to see a beautiful Amazon town rise up from foreign filth. The islands were already in pirate hands by the time she was born, making this a reincarnation of a past the princess has never witnessed. That hardly matters, of course. Her imagination has granted her a better vision of the good old days than mere reality ever could.
“At least mom gets something done...” Inanna mutters to herself. As usual, at first the princess had been agitating for war instead – preferably to liberate their sisters in Qurveza. Admittedly, she never imagined that such a construction project was even possible. But now that her mother has proven that it was it seems like the most natural thing.
Not that Inanna knows exactly how it is done, but she understands enough that she prefers a measure of ignorance. She does not mind the many males that must toil in Amazonia's quarries to realize the queen's ambitions. They threw in their lot with dark gods and deserve much worse. All she knows is that foreign elements are involved in this Amazonian resurgence – as evidenced by the welcoming committee that awaits her.
Her sister Maya stands ready to meet Inanna on the docks. As usual, that two-faced ex-pirate is at her side. With Tiziana's garb becoming more and more Amazon and Maya's outfits increasingly inspired by comfortable Eastern styles, the two seem to grow more alike each time Inanna sees them.
The princess keeps her concerns to herself, however. She owes too much to her sister this day – and unlike Maya she will not besmirch her Amazon dignity.
“How did it go?” Normally languid, the rotund royal greets Inanna enthusiastically. No doubt excited to have her sister indebted to her.
Inanna grows tense in Maya's embrace, and for a moment she worries the pirate is going to follow up with a hug of her own. Is it anathema to kill your sister's companion if that companion is a foreign convert, she asks herself. Just in case.
Fortunately it doesn't come to physical contact, relieving her ability to answer that hypothetical. Inanna's grasp of Amazon tradition is more emotional than cerebral and ill suited to that kind of introspection.
“I got you some spices...” Inanna mutters once she is released.
Maya replies with a soft chuckle. “That's very thoughtful, but I was thinking of the flashpowder I got you.”
Inanna hesitates, torn between her need to brag about her exploits and her desire to downplay her sister's involvement.
“Well, why don't you join us for lunch and you can tell us all about it!” Not waiting for an answer, Maya puts her arm around Inanna's waist and starts leading her along the pier. “Don't worry, I've told the cooks to prepare all your favourites. Remember how cranky you'd get when you had to share the grilled peppers?”
Inanna is blind-sided by the sudden reminder of their childhood and finds herself following along without protest. As strange as it seems now, Maya was much bigger and stronger than her younger sister back then. If little Inanna didn't want to share something, she could do little to stop her. Not that this has led to a lingering sense of inadequacy or anything, of course!
Troubled by the excesses she will no doubt be exposed to should she stay, Inanna hesitates. “I should get going...”
“Inanna, you've been off scrambling around in enemy territory for Rigg knows how long. You are allowed to take a breather every now and then, you know?”
“Tell that to our mom...” Inanna grumbles. She might return in triumph, but no matter how many riches she brings with her, her mother will not be satisfied until she brings her a granddaughter.
Maya shrugs and gestures towards the palanquin waiting to carry them up to the old governor's mansion that she now calls home. “She's just jealous that you are out fighting and pillaging while she's stuck in Ganaina, tending to boring matters of state like an old woman relegated to garden duty.”
As always Inanna is taken aback by the casual disrespect with which her sister can refer to their mother, the Queen of the Amazons and Custodian of Rigg. Presumably it is the audacity that comes with being the one that can do no wrong in her mother's eyes – even after literally failing her trial to become an Amazon. Nevertheless, the way Maya's words makes a human out of the nearly mythical queen does offer Inanna a measure of comfort.
“Well, maybe I can stay for a bit...”
* * *
There is definitely a measure of jealousy to be found in Queen Lyssa's mood. It is as if aching joints, fainting spells and affairs of state conspire to keep her trapped in her palace. On top of this, Inanna's defiance weighs heavily on her mind, keeping her distracted even in her most lucid moments.
However that is not the failure that preoccupies her the most. Just as she looks to the future in exhorting Inanna to bear an heir, Lyssa sees a way to redeem the conquest of Xahutec. What was intended to be her crowning achievement became anything but, with the great temple-city turning out to be an empty ruin.
Steward Azu has been out there for years now, trying to resettle the ruins in order to salvage the situation – and soothe the queen's pride. So far her efforts have made little headway, lending credence to the belief that the city is cursed.
Eager to reassert herself, any mention of curses only serves to make Lyssa even more determined to defy it. If the ruins are too remote and vast to colonize on their own, perhaps assistance could be found elsewhere. Even if that means sending out another Azu to do the convincing.
At least Xahutec now has the largest population of Azus in the Warhammer world
03.05.2045
Kriemhild's voice is a distant drone to Lyssa, preoccupied as she is with tugging at the sash on her resplendent gown. She deeply regrets agreeing to have the council meeting in the throne room. It is a show of health, certainly, but so much more comfortable to hold court in her bedchamber. Instead her back aches against the hard stone of Rigg's throne, forced display her wealth and power in this uncomfortable outfit.
Above all Lyssa regrets sending Azu the Younger out to Xahutec to assist her mother. At least the chancellor knows not to annoy her sovereign, unlike oblivious Kriemhild. To be sure the woman is a genius when it comes to military organization, but could she shut up about it for just one second...
Giving up trying to adjust the pageantry in which she is clad, Lyssa looks around for a servant. She's already had a few cups of wine, but perhaps something stronger could get her through the day. Sadly there is no salvation in sight. Yet another reason why sending Azu away was a mistake.
“Pressing so many shieldmaidens into garden service is making it hard to keep enough women under arms,” Kriemhild argues. Always harping on about the same things, unable to see the bigger picture of running the realm.
If anything we need more women on garden duty, Lyssa notes to herself, a wry observation on how her snack platter has somehow become empty again.
“We'll have to make do,” the queen says instead. She is no mood to explain for the hundredth time how resettlement efforts and construction works skew the availability of warriors and males for other tasks. At least she feels like she explained it earlier. Or was it the other day...?
Lyssa stifles a groan through clenched teeth and rubs her forehead. The council looks at her in apprehensive silence. It doesn't last long, but it is not they who break it.
Bursting into the hall, Matriarch Calypso II wastes no time waiting to be admitted, just as she clearly wasted no time coming to the palace. Her clothes show the wear of a long campaign, and the trinkets that adorn them show it was a successful one.
“Forgive the intrusion, friends,” the matriarch says, but there is no humility to trace in her voice. In fact the grin on her face only grows more smug as she continues: “I just returned from Araby and couldn't wait to share its bounty with you all!”
While Calypso continues to list her successes, the councillors look to their queen in wary anticipation. They are aware how stir crazy she has been getting the last couple of months, exacerbated by each report of successful raids.
Indeed upon seeing how proud and reinvigorated Calypso looks, the discomfort of Lyssa's throne seems to grow tenfold. Considering how long the queen has wanted to repeat her grand voyage across the ocean, Calypso's triumphant return is like a slap in the face.
It is, however, also a welcome relief from the tedious meeting. Swallowing her pride, Lyssa seizes the opportunity and puts on her most genuine of false smiles. “We're merely surprised to see you back so early,” she assures the matriarch.
“We did make very good time – both ways in fact! Sailing to Araby the winds take you far enough south to avoid any Elven interference too.”
“Oh really? Well this certainly calls for a celebration!” Lyssa's enthusiasm is getting more and more sincere. She bids her advisers to handle the necessary preparations and makes it clear the meeting is adjourned by motioning for two servants to help her to her feet.
“We can talk more about your travels at the feast,” the queen tells the matriarch, carefully concealing her fatigue. It's not quite the repeat of her grand voyage all those years ago, but if reaching Araby is as easy as the Quetzlpan matriarch makes it out to be... “You simply must tell me everything about it!”
04.05.2045
Laughter and drunken boasts emanate from the main hall of the royal palace. Spirits are high as the promised celebration grows increasingly rowdy, fuelled by the queen's personal stores and exotic delights from Araby.
“So it's the desert people who make these?” the queen inquires before languidly popping the delicate sweet into her mouth. Powdered sugar lingers on her lips and fingers as she chews with great deliberation.
“I would assume so,” Calypso shrugs. Her nonchalance quickly turns to boisterous laughter as she adds: “I don't think there were anyone left in that town to ask!”
The women seated around them at the head of the table join in the laughter, all but fighting amongst each other to toast with the returning raider. Finding herself outside the centre of attention for a change, Lyssa does her best to grin and bear it. She finds distraction in delicacies both foreign and local while the nobles offer their congratulations.
Carefully inserting herself back into proceedings by handing Calypso a fresh cup of red wine, Lyssa pretends she is simply making conversation: “And the journey was not strenuous at all?”
“The most exhausting part was transporting all the loot!” Calypso boasts, pausing to gulp down half the cup before she continues. “You haven't tasted even half the spices we grabbed. Not to mention... wait a minute... ah, there it is!”
The matriarch shifts unsteadily on her cushion and with some difficulty manages to fumble a dagger from her belt. The steel seems to run like water across the blade, reflecting the light from burning braziers in a mesmerizing pattern.
“Do you have more?” Matriarch Melandra of Mamazo asks greedily, nearly spilling her drink as she leans in to look at the exotic weapon.
Only Lyssa seems unfazed by the display. There's no denying the elegant beauty of the blade, but she has more important things on her mind. Her apparent disinterest does not go unnoticed by the guest of honour, however.
“Not to your liking, Your Highness? I'm sure we brought back something other than sweets that will be of interest to you. Oh, we also found this exquisite fabric, so soft it might as well be blessed by Serena herself! I'll have some sent over...” Calypso takes a sip of her drink. A small smirk forms around the rim of her cup as she examines the queen. “Although, considering how well you've... convalesced while I was away, we might have to go back for more!”
If Lyssa takes offence at the jab she does not show it, instead making a point of laughing the hardest. As if to congratulate Calypso on her “hilarious joke”, the queen leans over and puts her arm around the matriarch. “I'm feeling much better, thank you!” she smiles as the grip on Calypso's shoulder tightens.
“Now... if you were in fact going to go back to Araby, how long would it take to prepare an expedition?” The question is quite direct, leaving Calypso little room to wriggle away from it – both physically and figuratively.
“I didn't mean it like that Your Highness. You'll have all the fabric you want, I swear. There's no need to go back right away, really.”
“But if you were to do so anyway?” Lyssa does not relent, although this goes largely unnoticed by the other guests who have already moved on to other conversations.
“A few weeks, maybe. If you're in a hurry.”
Realizing she has perhaps been a bit to eager, Lyssa lets go of the matriarch and makes to relax. “Oh these sweets are just so good, you know?” she says off-handedly, rather than admit how desperate she is to 'get out of the house'.
For good measure Lyssa reaches for said treats – but what she finds is Kriemhild's hand. Taking advantage of the queen focussing on her conversation with Calypso, the marshal has made off with the sweets. And she shows no sign of ending the plunder.
Instinctively Lyssa swoops down to steal back a bowl of sweet porridge, but Kriemhild doesn't seem to take the hint – despite how defiantly the queen devours the reclaimed dish. The skirmishing continues for a while until the marshal realizes what she has gotten herself into. This is now a duel and honour dictates there's no backing down.
It was at this moment that Kriemhild knew she fucked up